


Black Velvet

by cmdf



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Handkerchief Code, M/M, Masturbation, Video Cameras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:06:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmdf/pseuds/cmdf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam’s heart picks up thinking about it, arm twisting to pull a swatch of velvet from his right pocket. The black velvet slips through his fingers, puddling quietly onto the floor between his knees.</p>
<p>“Would you look at that,” Harry tuts, “is that all?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Velvet

**Author's Note:**

> I BLAME [CAITLIN](http://archiveofourown.org/users/la_faerie) FOR THIS ENTIRELY.
> 
> She sent me an awful, awful [gifset](http://lafaerie.tumblr.com/post/65012438137/harry-giving-liam-his-bandana-back-x) of Harry tucking Liam's hanky back into his pocket, and I started yelling at [Carolyn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/anoveltwist/pseuds/anoveltwist) about Hanky Code (which we have been doing for months now)... and this happened. This actually happened. I am so done with Lirry.
> 
> Thanks to all who peered in on the doc at the various stages of creation. This is the quickest I've written a fic. It has been half-assed beta'd, not Brit-picked at all, and forgive me for I am also strung out on a seemingly endless loop of playing nothing but Lady Gaga for 72 hours straight. Pls excuse any and all errors. Shout out to my sis, Maika.
> 
> This is entirely fictional. It is also entirely filth. I am sorry this exists.

Liam’s used to being in front of the camera.

It’s been that way for what feels like half of his life, and he expects it—being the focus, the center of attention, an entertainer, an idol. There’s never a time when he isn’t being filmed, and he’s cautious, only feeling nauseated when he starts to think too much about the never ending reality of always being watched: paparazzi, fans, Andy’s Keek’s, Louis' Instagram, Skype calls with Ruth.

On or off the stage, everybody’s watching him. It’s easy to excuse it since he started on The X Factor. Hell, the band has been filmed before it’s conception.

Everybody wants to document them at every angle, grabbing them, yelling for them. It’s always thrilling knowing you’re wanted, but it’s slightly terrifying to think about how many people have seen him that he’ll never even remember. Louis reminds him it’s part of the job whenever he brings up stuff like that, starts to mull on how much surveillance has changed them. 

He knows he’s always in front of a camera, but he’s never been in front of one this way.

“Are you going to be a good boy tonight?” Harry asks, thumb swiping over the shutter. “Going to look pretty for the camera?”

Liam doesn’t say anything at Harry’s words, just tucks his chin down in waiting. Harry hasn’t told him what to do yet, so he stays kneeled, palms rubbing against the grain of his denim. He hears the lens click open and tries not to flinch.

“Can you show me what you’ve got in your pockets, babe?” Harry asks again.

Liam’s heart picks up thinking about it, arm twisting to pull a swatch of velvet from his right pocket. The black velvet slips through his fingers, puddling quietly onto the floor between his knees.

“Would you look at that,” Harry tuts, “is that all?”

Liam flicks his eyes back up to the camera this time as he pulls out a cotton handkerchief hanging from the same pocket. He blushes, staring at the wrinkled green cloth draped over his palm.

“This, too,” he raises it for the camera, shoulders slumping forward. His knees are starting to hurt and it’s only been a few minutes.

“That’s new, isn’t it?”

“No,” ne shakes his head, picking up the black velvet swatch, “but this one is.”

Liam never expected it to escalate to this.

It all began a few months after he and Harry started fucking. Liam took a couple handkerchiefs from a shoot to wear in his pockets, and Caroline didn’t seem to mind it. He figured it looked stylish, a new personal brand, but what got to him was when Harry would break into a fit of hysterics when he’d wear his red one.

“How adventurous of you to flag on your right,” Harry snickered, “ _Really_ living up to your surname.”

Harry started gifting Liam all sorts of colors and patterns to sport with his outfits: robin’s egg blue, grey, stark white with colorful polka dots.

“What are you up to?” he finally asked Harry.

“A bit of fun,” he winked. “Always having fun with you.”

“I don’t trust that _look_ you’re giving me. You having me on?”

“Why?”

“I have a feeling these actually _mean_ something.”

Harry wiggled his brows, “they do.”

Harry leaned over to the nightstand for Liam’s laptop, pulling the comforter over their legs. He cracked it open, pulling up a page after a few clicks through Google and introduced Liam to the Code.

It was blinding scrolling through the spectrum of colors that made it too difficult to read the text over their boxes. Harry explained the difference between wearing on the left versus right, handing over the laptop so that he could read the codes for himself.

Liam gave Harry a pinch, “I can’t believe you allowed me to walk around with a yellow one!”

“Just taking the piss.”

“You actually disgust me, R. Kelly.”

Liam stopped dressing himself with them altogether after that, stashing his collection of Harry’s hankies into the corner of his suitcase. A week went by until Harry brought it up, taking note of Liam’s “drastic wardrobe change.”

Harry dug through the pile, walked up behind Liam to tuck it into his jeans.

“Stop it,” Liam said, “I’m not going to wear it.”

“‘S only navy, baby,” Harry pouted, leaning forward into his ear, “You gonna fuck me good tonight?”

“If you want,” Liam chuckled.

Harry dangled the hanky in front of Liam's eyes, nibbling on the lobe of Liam’s ear, “of course I do,” he shoved the cloth into his left pocket.

That’s how it started. 

Harry slinked in a black velvet swatch into his jeans today.

That’s how Harry has Liam on his knees in front of a camera.

“So this is new for you, love?” Harry speaks up.

“Y—yes.”

"How do you feel?"

Liam shifts the weight on his hips, "well, to be honest, my knees hurt."

He tries to laugh it off, trying to forget the seconds are being traced over through the lens. Harry licks his lips, leaning down with his eye squinting through the viewfinder. The silence is itching at his throat, making Liam tug at the neck of his shirt. What little relief it gives under his shaking hand is met with Harry’s eyes again, stomach dropping as soon as Harry’s lips twist into a smile:

“Gonna be a good boy for daddy?”

He wants to answer him, honest to god say anything, but a moan slips out before he can get out a _yes_.

“Are you?” Harry asks again, voice firm, straightening up to look over the camera.

“Yeah,” Liam nods, hands dropping the green hanky. “Just for you.” 

He feels overexposed in his clothes, like the lens is searing straight through him. Harry didn’t tell him why he wanted to risk doing something like this in particular. He’d mentioned it in passing once, hand stopping on Liam’s cock to pick his brains about it. 

“For who?”

“You,” Liam’s eyes drop back to the floor, shoulders bunching up.

“Look up here,” Harry taps a nail on the body of the camera. "Can you take your shirt off for me?"

Liam pulls at the neck of his tee again, slipping the shirt overhead and bundling it around his hands. He suddenly feels hotter, breaths shortening at as he reaches for his belt.

"Gorgeous," Harry coos, "I love it when you get shy."

"Shy?" He can feel his cheeks burning, thumbs slipping under the notch in his belt. "Is that what you want?"

Liam ignores the third eye between them, going back on his heels to bite at his lip and watch Harry watch him trace two fingers over the line of his swelling cock. His breath hitches, jaw dropping as he presses down with the heel of his palm. Liam bites into his lip harder, eyes falling shut to lose focus on the camera.

“You know.” Harry says, “Go on. Open your eyes for me, baby.”

Liam sucks in a deep breath, thumbs hooking at the waistband of his jeans, sliding them down to his knees, dipping his fingers beneath the elastic of his underpants just before his eyes fly open. He blinks his eyes open, cheeks burning hotter at the thought of how flushed they must look on screen.

“What do you want?” Liam scratches down the hair beneath his navel, fingers inching closer to his cock.

“Can we take a peek, darling?” Harry plucks the camera off the tripod.

Liam’s heart picks up, thumbs circling against his skin, “‘S nothing you’ve never seen before.”

“But I’m dying to see how big your cock looks on screen,” Harry winks, settling on his knees carefully. “It's your debut.”

It’s easy for Liam to play the part when he’s asked. He can do this: he’s Liam god damn Payne. That’s his full time job. Swimming through uncomfortable situations caused by fan encounters to interview questions is familiar territory for him. Over the years, he's learned to rise above the anxiety squeezing at his chest, and in this particular moment, he's reminding himself it isn’t really fear but arousal. That buzz keeps him on edge, senses on high from the desire to please himself just to please Harry.

He brings a hand up to his mouth, waiting for the camera to follow before he licks across his palm. His hand slips back into his briefs, fist wrapping around his cock. It takes a couple of strokes for him to get properly slicked up, fingers sliding up and down his shaft.

Harry's angling the camera, panning slowly down his chest, "Were you expecting black velvet today, baby?"

Liam shivers and shakes his head, "No."

"But you love it. Love it so much."

"Yeah—" Liam pulls at the band, cock springing free as he slides them half-way down his thighs. He can’t look at the camera right now, instead takes himself back into his hand. He sighs, cheek turning into his shoulder.

"’Course you do,” Harry’s voice picks up. “ What did you expect today?"

Liam flicks his eyes back up to the camera, rhythm picking up, “black.”

“Just black?”

He nods, making a noise of agreement while slowing his strokes. Harry’s running a hand through his hair, a glimmer of sweat starting on his upper lip. Liam moans, brows furrowing over the thought of Harry’s lips against his neck. "I wanted to tie you down and sit on your cock tonight."

Harry’s eyes light up, lips full and twisted. Liam’s trying his hardest to surprise Harry, and maybe it’s working, but Harry counters him back, baiting Liam to go further:

"Would you slap me around like the naughty boy you are?"

His hand slips from his cock at the thought of it, the sweet blossoming bruises Liam loves to decorate across Harry’s chest while pulling at his hair, the way he can get Harry squirming under him, begging, gasping, lauding how _good_ everything is, how good they are to each other. _Good_ is how it always is for them. Liam wouldn’t have it any other way.

The purpose of the camera feels less daunting than it did when Liam still had his clothes on. It’s a prop, filtering this need for release when Liam takes his cock back in hand. 

"I'd get you screaming, daddy."

“Shit,” Harry chokes.

Liam smiles, eyes closing with his head tipped back, “let you fuck me with my hand around your throat.”

“You know that’s my favorite.”

“Tell me how much you like it,” Liam hears Harry’s breath hitch and savours the flush all over his cheeks burn down his chest. He teases his thumb over the head of his cock, hand twisting back down to spread the slick up and down his cock. “I—you’re so— _yeah_ , gonna come—”

“Stop,” Harry says. “Not yet.”

Liam shakes his head, biting his lip around a moan, refusing to let up on his cock. His shoulders are aching, sweat rolling down his neck.

“Just want you to kiss me, babe,” Liam begs, “kiss me, please.”

“No, stop touching yourself for a second—”

“Touch me—” Liam gasps, edging closer, moans sparking arousal more for him than the camera at this point, “Spank me—an—anything—”

“No,” Harry’s voice drops as Liam’s hand falters, “this is all about you tonight.”

"Just wanna come,” Liam grits out, “Can I?"

“Can you _what_?” Harry tuts. “Say the magic words.”

“Please,” Liam squeezes his eyes shut, breaths burning in his chest. He can hear Harry’s breath shorten, too. “Please, daddy.”

Liam looks up at the camera again, moan slipping through his lips as he tries to ignore Harry’s wandering palm rubbing over the zip of his denim. It makes him burn all over, thinking about how Harry’s cock trapped in denim, how painful that must be considering how tight his pants are, cotton stretching over his thighs. 

"Got a load for me, darling?"

“Yeah,” Liam whines, voice going hoarse and needy. "I'm thinking about you, your lips on my cock, swall—oh, _fuck_ , your mouth—I—"

“That’s it—come for daddy."

Liam tenses up, then relaxes into it, coming with his head thrown back, shooting up his stomach, spilling over his knuckles. He spills out the last of his come, feeling the heat of Harry duck in closer with the lens. Liam looks straight into the eye of the camera, chest panting, lungs catching up with his racing heart,

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Harry gives a toothy grin that Liam can’t help but blush over. "Have a taste for the camera."

“You can fuck off,” Liam narrows his eyes and gets his other clean hand to thwack Harry on the side of his head, "you can’t spring that on me.”

He hears the shutter close as Harry sets the camera next to his knee and knees closer to Liam to take his wrist in hand. Liam watches Harry’s eyes flick down at the mess going tacky on his hand.

“Well,” Harry mumbles, lips stopping to press a soft kiss to the his cheek before brushing up against his ear, “better start making use of that orange then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please refer to [this link](http://user.xmission.com/~trevin/hanky.html) if you're unfamiliar with hanky code :)


End file.
